


Standing on Ceremony

by keepraided (castlestormed)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Fluff (if you squint), Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-19 01:28:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5951038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castlestormed/pseuds/keepraided
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is Leon's first jousting tournament and his nervous musings are interrupted by a vision in sky-blue-and-lace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Standing on Ceremony

**Author's Note:**

> In my head, Leon is in his early twenties while Morgana and Arthur are in their late teens.

Leon was preparing for a jousting match. It would be his first since he formally became a Knight of Camelot, and every time he thought of this it turned him into a bundle of nerves. He had banished all his friends from his tent and instructed his manservant to let nobody disturb him so that he could concentrate on calming himself.  
  
But... It wasn't working out too well.

The steady silence just made him feel even  _more_  jittery, and the nerves twisted his stomach into knots. He was in this haggard state of mind when a muffled commotion from the front of his tent caught his attention, and he glanced towards it just in time to see a vision in sky-blue-and-lace letting herself in through the canvas flap. "Oh I'll  _only_  be in for a minute. I'm sure Sir Leon won't mind - isn't that right, Sir Leon?"

Leon would have cuffed his protesting servant if he was not so busy being surprised. "Lady Morgana, what are you doing here?" he asked as she let herself in. "Is something the matter?"

She turned her eloquent blue eyes his way and he got the sense that she was amused, even though she did not smile. "No, of course not," she said casually, "I just heard from Uther that his favorite knight was up next so I thought it proper that I come here to wish you luck." 

A bit of an anomaly among the courtiers, the Lady Morgana came and went as she pleased. She arrived at the courts of Camelot at the tender age of ten and had been something of a force of nature. While he was training for his knighthood, she had been a near-permanent fixture on the field, along with the young Prince Arthur - at least, until the latter started his formal training for the knighthood. While Arthur got to join the men on the field, Morgana was restricted to tutors and the indoors. This had resulted in significantly better behavior in formal company, but it had done little to banish the old mischief that had driven her, as a young girl, to befriend and convince amiable young men like Leon to teach her how to use the sword. At this point, they were old friends, she and he.

Leon resisted the urge to snort into the curve of his hand and opted instead to clear his throat. "That's bold praise when I've just earned my knighthood," he observed.

"You wouldn't say that if you knew how much Uther's talked about you. It's been Leon this and Leon that since you impressed him and the rest that one time. I honestly thought that Arthur would be quite sick of you when he started training for his knighthood but you've managed to win  _him_  over as well."

He smiled and tried not to show how pleased he was by her lavish (if a bit over the top) praise. Of course he'd worked hard to be recognized by the King. He wanted to honor his own father, who had also been a knight and sacrificed a great deal for the crown. "I'm glad the Prince likes me," he admitted, thinking back a few years. "I don't think we started off very well."

As one of the better trainees in his batch, Leon had somehow landed himself the great honor of giving Arthur his first bout of formal training. Leon had little experience dealing with Arthur directly before then, so he was surprised and a bit confused by how hostile the young Prince was. It took a while for them to get on the right page, but Leon was patient by nature so he was able to weather out the storm.

"That's only because he was jealous," Morgana replied, flippantly giving the reason that Leon suspected but would never have dared to state aloud. Few could get away with comments that bordered offense towards the royal family. Fortunately, Morgana enjoyed the comforts and privileges of being King Uther's ward and his son's close friend and former playmate.

Ever the peaceable one, he said, "Arthur's a good person. I believe he'll be a great knight someday, and a just King."

"Maybe when he grows up a little." Morgana shrugged, then frowned, saying slowly, "You are next to joust, are you not?"

"That's right."

"Why aren't you outfitted in your gear yet?"

Leon looked down. He was wearing his chain mail and the long tunic with the Camelot crest embroidered at the front, but it was not belted and his shoulder armor remained attached to the stand behind him, while his greaves and gauntlets lay on the table nearby. "I think I was in the middle of putting them on."

"Your servant was outside your tent," she noted.

"I know how to put on my own armor, my lady," he said dryly. The truth was he didn't want to have a witness to his anxiety.

Morgana appeared oblivious to his concerns. "But usually you knights get help with those sorts of things." One second she was frowning, the next she suddenly clapped her hands, eyes wide with excitement. "Shall I help?" she suggested.

Leon was aghast. "I couldn't ask  _you_!"

"Don't be silly and come." Morgana was already unlatching the shoulder gear from its perch with the ease and speed of one who was in the habit of it. "I've had practice you know. My father liked me to help him."

"My lady—" Oh the levels of  _inappropriate_  this was! But she kept on insisting and eventually (as usual) she wore him down. He found himself before her as her skilled hands secured a metal plate to his shoulder.

"Do stand  _still_ , Sir Leon," Morgana said, a wrinkle appearing at her brow, "I want to see if I remember this right. So first it's this strap, then that one..." She muttered to herself as she worked on his left arm, then his right. Leon thought he was doing a pretty good job at not fidgeting while she moved around, at least until she thrust a gauntlet into his hands and said, "When I asked you to be still, I didn't mean become a statue! Put those on, will you? Unless you  _want_  to miss your first tournament?"

Part of him wanted to. It really did. But it was just a small part, and Leon was a young man who was ruled by duty. Knighthood was a dream he'd had since boyhood, and if part of being a knight was participating in jousting tournaments, so be it.

Between the two of them, Leon found himself dressed and ready in less the amount of time he'd spent brooding.

The Lady Morgana circled him with a satisfied smile.

"Well! That went by smoothly, if I do say so myself!"

Leon couldn't help smiling himself. "Seems like you never grew out of the habit."

"Seems not!" She stopped in front of him and clasped her hands behind her back, making several failed attempts to veil how pleased she was with herself until she managed to school her features into seriousness. "So, Sir Leon. You've had my help putting your gear on. I expect nothing less than a win from you today."

"I intend nothing less myself, my lady." She was a brash young thing, with confidence that was positively infectious. Sir Leon found that his nervousness had all but disappeared.

As if on cue, a pair of trumpets sounded, signaling the end of the match outside.

"The moment of truth has arrived," Morgana observed.

Leon swept back his cape and presented her with his arm. "May I escort you out?"

"You may," she said with exaggerated decor. "Although in context, it is more like I am the one escorting you out, sir newly-made Knight."

"Either way, you do me great honor, my lady," he said as he held the canvas flap aside to clear her way out.

"Flatterer! Knighthood has silvered your tongue."

Leon laughed and patted the hand she'd placed on his arm, leaning down so that she could hear him over the hustle and bustle of tournament business. "I was actually dying of nerves in there, but your presence set me at ease," he said honestly. "Believe me when I say you have every bit of my thanks, Morgana."

"Oh, I figured as much." When he turned to her with a question in his eye, she had a wicked grin on her face. "I heard from Arthur that you told everyone that you wanted to be alone until after your game. My dear cousin assumed that you were mentally preparing yourself, which is what  _he_ would do, but you and Arthur are nothing alike."

"So you thought I would be nervous?"

"I thought you would be out-of-sorts,  _especially_ if you were alone. I don't think I've ever met a knight who lives in his head quite so much as you do, Sir Leon." She was a sharp young thing for sure. 

"Well then, I suppose I should thank you for rescuing me from myself."

"You can do that by winning." She pulled away to pat him on the shoulder, jostling the armor she had helped to strap on. "I'll see you at the stands. Show even a  _hint_  of nerves and I'm ignoring you, are we clear?"

Leon hid his smile with a bow. "As you wish, Lady Morgana."


End file.
